


TLC

by just_my_musings22



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Roommates, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_my_musings22/pseuds/just_my_musings22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is sent to live with a psychiatrist, who turns out to be the prettiest man he ever met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!  
> I know next to nothing about psychiatry, and probably got everything wrong :/  
> It will be updated soon, I have plaaaans for this fic.  
> (This started out as an exercise, sorry if not v good)  
> ^_^

Dan was at a low point in his life. He felt like nothing mattered. He felt that the world would mercilessly carry on turning no matter what happened in his life, his trivial, speck-of-dust existence. He didn't understand what he wanted, why he felt like this, but it ate away at his soul until he felt nothing left. Nothing but swirling emptiness. And the worst thing was, no-one seemed to care. He craved attention, then shied away from from it as people told him to pull himself together or that it was just a passing thing. He didn’t want to pull himself together. He didn't want to get up from his mental fetal position in his brain.

Eventually his family noticed, talked about it, then came to a conclusion. Dan went to therapists, Doctors, special people who looked at the brain, but his condition only worsened. As desperate times called for more desperate measures, his family decided. He was sent to live with a psychiatrist.

On the first day, Dan slumped in the sofa in the living room, waiting for the doctor to arrive. He didn't see the point of this place. He wanted to leave. ‘I'm not going to co-operate’, he said quite loudly and clearly to the room.

‘Thats a shame’, a man’s voice answered him. The doctor had just entered the room unnoticed. He sounded like he was smiling. Dan looked down at his hands, and saw that they were shaking. He wasn't sure if it was anger, or fright, but he didn't care either way. A great wave of lethargy washed over him.

‘Daniel, is it? Well, I'm Philip. Dr Phil.’ Dr. Phil chuckled slightly to himself. Dan guessed he was a young man. _I’ll probably hate him_ , thought Dan. He has a nice laugh though. _Still. Stuff him._

‘So Daniel, how do you like my flat?’. Dan puzzled over this sentence for a while. Was this usual psychiatrist talk? The others had just quizzed him on his feelings and early memories. He risked a glance upwards, then looked down almost at once. Sitting on the armchair in front of him was quite possibly the prettiest man he’d ever seen. He was younger than Dan thought, with a pale complexion and very dark hair. What struck him most was the intensity of his dark blue eyes, which stared at you with a sort of understanding and pride. Dan felt almost unworthy to look at this face, so he stared at his hands instead.

‘Dan. Call me Dan’. The words came out surly and muttered, but Dan felt it was important to make Phil know this. _Important? Since when was anything important to you?_  

‘Very sorry. Dan. I’ll remember that. So, just to let you know, you’re going to be with me for as long as you want, if you’re comfortable, that is. You’ll be able to see your family any time you want. And you can change doctors if you want. I hope not Dan. I like you’.

Dan looked up again and this time stayed looking at the man’s face. He shrugged. The doctor was probably lying, they're probably trained to say this kind of stuff.

All the same, he appreciated it. It was better than being in the real world.

* * *

 

Phil stared at the patient in front of him, and resisted the urge to give him a motherly hug. Patients like this always made him sad, so he threw himself wholeheartedly into his work. Dan had a face that looked like it should be smiling, smiling a lot. He was kind of lanky, with longish brown hair. And he was good-looking. Phil wasn't going to lie. It hurt to see someone so beaten-down and lost. And if he didn't feel like talking, Phil was fine with that. He bustled around the flat making tea, doing paperwork. But the first reaction Phil got from Dan was, after finishing his work, when he started the new Mario game. As soon as the intro music started, he saw Dan’s head look up quickly from the sofa, towards the direction of the TV.

‘You want to play?’, asked Phil. Dan nodded and bit his lip awkwardly, which caused Phil, to choke on his tea. He really was very good looking. From an un-professional point of view; doctors weren't allowed to notice that. He soon recollected himself, and soon they were joking and bantering like normal friends.

One thing Phil noticed, was when Dan smiled, he had the most gorgeous dimple. It looked a little like a dent in cream, and Phil wanted to touch it. _Which your not going to_. Of course not. After two days of living with each other, Phil realised that when Dan wasn’t trapped in his own head, he was actually a cool guy. He was always quite willing to help around the house, or have a chat with Phil (once he got over the initial shyness). The only problems were when Dan refused to do the psychiatrist worksheets Phil gave him, and when he hit rock bottom, and lay on the floor, or curled up in bed. He found that the best way to deal with these was to bring mugs and mugs of tea, and talk to him one-sidedly. He didn't need pity, just a bit of TLC.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has an idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!!!!  
> Now I've started, I can't stop. I have very big plans for this fic indeed

It was a few days in, and Dan was settling in well. He approved of the flat, it was a safe haven from the cruel outside world. And he wasn't even properly safe there, for his brain also held problems and worries, ones that would cause him to shake violently at random moments.One of the worst problems were the nightmares. He had a choice few that would circle around behind his eyes on bad nights, and there were so many such nights that he could remember every minute detail of every horror.

One time, when Phil was away for a long time after dark, Dan tipped over the edge. Phil was shocked when he found Dan, not in his bed but on the floor of Phil’’s room unmoving. Dan let himself be carried limply back to bed, where Phil gave him a glass of water and a pill. Tonight was one such night.

Dan lay in bed, shivering. He had just woken up from a bad dream, and couldn't sleep. It was one of the worse ones, where Dan had injured his leg trying to run a race. The crowd didn't seem to realise he had been hurt, or perhaps didn't care, and just kept screaming at him to get up and pull himself together. I should take my pills, thought Dan. But he didn’t. They always made him feel weird.

Softly, he clambered out of his bed, his feet meeting the scratchy carpet. He opened his door slowly, walking silently to Phil’s room. He stopped at the door, and felt suddenly like a child who couldn't sleep. He knocked once, then pushed forward. Phil was still awake, to his relief. Dan knew the other man had a habit of going to sleep unhealthily late. He looked like he had been about to turn off the the light. Phil took in Dan’s blotchy face and messy hair. ‘Bad dreams?’, he asked, his eyes wide with sympathy. Dan nodded, and stood there awkwardly for a moment.

‘Tell you what, Dan. You can sleep here tonight if you want’, Phil motioned towards his bed. There was certainly space. Dan nodded again. ‘Thanks’.He couldn't think of anything more wonderful than Phil's solid reassurance. He wriggled under the colourful duvet and was warmed instantly. It was strange, he thought. He would have probably been uneasy if this was anyone else, but with Phil it was comfortable.

Dan curled up and fell almost instantly asleep, being lulled to sleep by Phil’s slow, even breathing. He only woke up once more that night, but his panic was instantly subdued by Phil's sleeping form.

Dan was woken, not by Phil, but by the lack of his warmth on the bed. As he got up and stretched he looked around him, having never properly been in the doctor’s room. It was colourful and airy, and it’s layout was much the same as Dan’s. The only difference was the amount of paper stacked on the the desk, the chairs and the floor. Dan looked over one of the ones at the top. It had a bunch of his symptoms, along with numbers and complicated little doodles in the corner. It was weird: sometimes Dan forgot altogether that Phil was his doctor, he acted so much like a friend. A little voice in his head told Dan that Phil was getting paid to be nice to him. Slightly more depressed now, Dan shoved the thought out of his mind and walked into the kitchen. There was a note taped to the fridge. It explained that Phil was only going out for a little while, to get supplies for a new idea, and not to worry.

* * *

 

‘So, Dan. My idea’.

Dan started. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what Phil was saying, it was the delicate pink tip of his nose that had caught Dan’s eye. Phil had just entered the warm flat, his cheeks and nose rosy from the cold weather outside, looking, if Dan dare say it, utterly adorable. He had been mooching around the flat, banned from going on Tumblr. The ban had taken place after Phil noticed the potential triggers, and although Dan’s protests had lasted a few days, Phil stayed strong. It was for ‘his own good’ apparently.

‘Dan! This is important. It could potentially prove to be an important factor in your wellbeing’, Phil  continued.

‘Have you swallowed a medical journal, or something?’ teased Dan. Seeing Phil’s unamused expression he hurriedly added ‘I’m listening, I’m listening’. Phil gave him one of his _looks_ and continued talking.

‘I got this idea from a friend of mine, PJ, you know him? Well he makes videos for a living, and as I was talking to him, I remembered a therapeutic exercise that I think you’d like. Since you seem to have some problems sharing your feelings with others, why not make a sort of video journal! You can talk to the camera, and its completely up to you if I can watch them or not. Many people find this easier than actual communication’.

Dan considered the proposition, and very grudgingly admitted to himself that he could give it a try. It was better than having to talk about his feelings to an actual person. He eyed the camera that Phil had produced from his rucksack, and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand.

‘I’ll do it’. He took the camera and rose up towards his room. Before shutting the door, Dan poked his head through and joked ‘Give me and my new friend some privacy Phil, geez’.

Phil, seeing through the joke, immediately went to his room to do some work.

 

Dan set the camera down on his desk, and sat in the chair facing it. After some thought he decided he’d start with a memory.

‘Hello...um...camera. Wow. This is kind of stupid, talking to a camera but erm… I thought I’d start with a little story, which in my mind I have name “The Bathroom Incident”. I think it was when I actually saw how much Phil cared about his patients. And how prepared and lovely he was in a bad situation’. Dan sucked in a long breath. ‘It went like this’.

It was one of the first days of Dan’s arrival. He was persuaded gently to take a hot bath, and after being shown how to use each of the dials, he turned the hot water on and stripped. He hadn't taken a bath in a while, he didn't seen the point. It was basically bathing in your own muck. When he’d pointed this out to Phil he simply replied ‘Hippos do it, so will you’, and argument was won. Dan stepped into the warm water and let it cover his body. 

 

Phil was alerted that something was wrong when Dan had been in the bathroom for half an hour straight. Keeping in mind that Dan might just like long baths he knocked on the door cautiously.

‘Dan?’. There was no answer. Immediately concerned and armed with a towel, in case he needed to cover his eyes, Phil knocked again, and entered the bathroom. Steam billowed out of the door, and Phil coughed drily, following the misty shapes of of the sink, when suddenly his foot collided with something soft. Emerging faintly in the steam was the figure of Dan, faced down on the damp floor. Phil sat down next to him, covering Dan’s exposed arse with the towel and sitting down. The seat of his jeans got wet, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was for his patient, and friend, to be well again. Running his hand comfortingly over Dan’s wet hair, he made small soothing noises. When Dan had stopped shaking, he whispered in his ear that he would be right back, and ran to get some supplies: towels, tea and boxer shorts.

‘I can’t tell you what was exactly going through my mind’, concluded Dan to the still gaze of the camera. ‘All I knew was that I was so alone, and then suddenly Phil was there’. He was silent for a moment. ‘When he came back he dried my hair, so I “wouldn’t catch a cold”, and then stayed there in the toilet with me, drinking tea and just talking. I wasn’t really listening to what he said, but to the tone of his voice. He convinced me to sit up, put on some underwear, and keep on living”.


End file.
